


A Little Fucking Practice

by mthrfkrgdhrwego (universalchampbalor)



Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: Butt Plugs, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Locker Room, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Spit Kink, Sub Roman, Subspace, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, yeah i finally caved and wrote daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 01:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18436001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universalchampbalor/pseuds/mthrfkrgdhrwego
Summary: Dean just watches for a moment, absently stroking himself over his jeans.  They make a hell of a sight- Finn’s pale skin against Roman’s tan, the sheer size difference, the rasp of beard against beard. Roman’s got a hand on Finn’s ass, practically spreading him through his thin trunks. One of Finn’s thighs is leveraged between Roman’s, who’s rutting against it. Finn’s on his tiptoes to kiss Roman.





	A Little Fucking Practice

Dean’s got an arm around Roman’s waist the second they’re through the curtain.

His hand is dipped into Roman’s back pocket, groping his ass as soon as he knows he can without the cameras seeing. Roman’s halfway down already, has been since the night before, so it’s easy to lead him to the roster locker room instead of Roman’s private one.

Finn smiles as they enter, a small, demure thing that’s half aimed at the floor. Dean leers at the Irishman, already in his ring gear and leather jacket. Roman sits next to him and tucks his head into Finn’s neck. For a big guy, he makes himself small like it’s as easy as breathing. There’s a screen in the room, something placed there so the roster can watch the show from relative comfort. Seth’s segment with Heyman is playing.

Dean claps loudly, getting the attention of the room. “Alright, unless you wanna watch my boys taking dick, clear out.” He says loudly, hefting his dick through his jeans. 

The locker room clears without much fuss. A few guys send him a dirty look on the way out, but everyone knows better than to say something. Within a few minutes, the space is empty, save for Roman and Finn sharing soft kisses.

Well, almost empty.

McIntyre is still stationed in the corner, back against the wall, feet tossed onto the bench next to him. He’s not looking up, instead focusing on his phone. His focus stays down even as Dean walks up to him.

“Do you mind?” Dean asks, fingers tapping against his collar bone. He’s hard and twitchy and full of energy and he doesn’t really want an audience tonight.

McIntyre just shrugs. “Nah. I’m not movin’. Don’t mind me.” He waves a hand dismissively, still focused on his phone.

“Whatever.” Dean mumbles. He makes his way back to his boys, to where Finn has Roman pressed to the wall. Finn’s so much smaller than Roman, and the younger man could easily push away from the wall, but Finn’s kissing him like it’s the last time he’ll get to, so it’s safe to say Roman isn’t going anywhere. 

Dean just watches for a moment, absently stroking himself over his jeans.  They make a hell of a sight- Finn’s pale skin against Roman’s tan, the sheer size difference, the rasp of beard against beard. Roman’s got a hand on Finn’s ass, practically spreading him through his thin trunks. One of Finn’s thighs is leveraged between Roman’s, who’s rutting against it. Finn’s on his tiptoes to kiss Roman.

Dean can hear Roman making breathy little noises in the back of his throat, like he’s feeling too much and it’s coming out every time he breathes, like the hand Finn has on Roman’s chest is forcing the noises out of him. Roman’s pliant and easy, almost panting against Finn’s lips.

Eventually, Dean presses himself against Finn’s back, his dick pressed to the point where Roman’s hand and Finn’s ass meet. He grabs a fistful of Finn’s hair and pulls him away from Roman, ignoring the little noise he makes in response. 

He kisses Roman hard over Finn’s shoulder, digging his teeth into Roman’s thick lower lip. Roman  _ whines _ , low in his throat, a desperate little noise that makes Dean’s dick twitch. He barely kisses back, lets Dean take control and hangs on for the ride.

Dean kisses him for a few minutes, pulling his hair and biting him hard enough to threaten his skin. Roman moans into his mouth like he’s getting fucked through a mattress. Finn wriggles between them, kissing Roman’s neck as he rocks against their crotches. Dean’s got a hand in Finn’s trunks, not touching, just waiting. 

Eventually, Dean pulls away, feeling like his skin’s buzzing. “Finn, knees. Roman, come with me.” He pants, pulling Roman over to the seats in front of the screen. Seth’s match has begun by now, and Roman makes a small noise in his throat as he watches. Dean shoves him onto the bench and gestures Finn over.

Finn  _ crawls _ over, fucking hands and knees  _ slinks _ across the locker room. He settles in front of where Dean and Roman are seated, hands on his thighs. He looks up at Dean with big, obedient eyes, lips kiss swollen and spit slick.

“Wish we had your collar. Bet you’d love that.” Finn purrs in response and nuzzles into Dean’s hand. “You’d wear it out there in front of everyone if we asked.” Dean pets Finn, nails catching against his scalp as he opens his jeans with one hand.

“Roman, get your pretty cock out. I wanna enjoy these cock sucking lips of his.” Dean drags a thumb across Finn’s lower lip, dragging it down. Finn groans and pulls Dean’s thumb into his mouth, laving his tongue against the pad of the thumb, feeling the texture of the whorls. “See? He’s desperate for something in his mouth.”

Dean pulls his hand away and nudges Finn with his knee. The older man moves easily, settling himself between Roman’s open thighs. Roman’s got his gear unzipped, and Dean’s pleased to note he’s not wearing anything underneath.

“He’s got a pretty cock, doesn’t he, Diamond?” Dean asks, running a fingernail down the length of Roman’s cock. Roman groans, hands clenched against his thighs. His cock is already drooling against his thigh, a little red. Dean would be willing to bet money that he could feel Roman’s pulse through it.

“He sure does. Just long enough to touch the back of my throat, just wide enough to stretch my mouth.” Finn answers, resting his cheek on Roman’s thigh. His breath is huffing against Dean’s hand as the youngest man lifts Roman’s cock.

“Go on, Diamond. Make Kitten feel good.” Dean rasps, positioning the head of Roman’s cock against Finn’s lips. 

Roman’s been trembling this whole time, but he’s been relatively quiet. He positively  _ sobs _ when Finn’s mouth covers his cock, red lips stretched wide. His hands are shaking, still braced against his legs.

Finn works the head of Roman’s cock until Roman’s teary-eyed and twitchy, hips jerking in small, reigned in thrusts. Roman’s head is rested on Dean’s shoulder, mouth open and panting against Dean’s neck.

As Finn slides his mouth lower, working Roman’s cock almost to the back of his throat, Roman whimpers, a high, airy sound. His hands are shaking. Dean has his phone out as quickly as his twitchy hands can manage, the camera opened and pointed at Roman.

“Please, please, please. Daddy, please let me touch him.” Roman whines, fingers tensing and untensing against his thigh shakily. “Please, I wanna touch him, he’s making me feel so  _ good _ and I wanna-” 

Roman cuts himself off with a moan, a drawn-out, sweet little noise. His hips are rocking in short little movements like he wants to thrust up, like he wants to fuck Finn’s throat, but Dean knows he won’t, because Roman hasn’t been given permission yet.

“You beg so nicely, Kitten. Go ahead. You can touch, but your hips stay still.” He allows, voice mellow as he watches Roman almost  _ writhe _ . 

Roman’s hands sink into Finn’s hair as soon as he gets permission, tangling as best they can in Finn’s short hair. His knuckles are almost white, and Finn makes a sharp little noise around Roman’s dick as the younger man  _ pulls _ .

Dean nudges Roman’s legs wide enough to almost be uncomfortable and traps his foot so he can’t draw them back together. He zooms in with the phone on the point where Finn’s cherry red lips meet the flushed skin of Roman’s cock. 

A line of drool slides down the side of Roman’s dick, gathers against the skin of his balls. Saliva slicks Finn’s lips, and every time he pulls back up, it glistens along Roman’s length. Finn’s gagging himself on Roman, lips still working against the base. His throat is bulging a little with it. Dean doubts Finn’s getting enough air.

“Kitten. Look at the screen.” Dean orders, voice soft over the sound of Finn choking himself to make Roman feel good. Roman’s eyes flick open, glassy and blown wide with lust. He whimpers and jerks his hips as he watches Seth’s match.

“Does watching Sir make you hot? Make you wanna come?” Dean asks, dragging his nails across Roman’s stomach, his shirt hiked up haphazardly. 

Roman moans and nods, his head tossed as far back as possible without breaking his line of sight. His fingers flex against Finn’s scalp, yanking Finn’s hair by the roots. Finn  _ moans _ and reaches a hand up to play with Roman’s balls.

“Look at how gorgeous he is, how wrecked. Wonder if he’ll look like that when he’s riding me tonight?” Dean breathes, teeth clamping Roman’s earlobe.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Daddy please, please let me come. It-it feels so good, Sir’s so pretty, it’s too much.” His voice is desperate, high in the back of his throat as he grinds his hips against Finn’s mouth.

“Go on Kitten. Come for your daddy. Come for Sir.” Dean grits the words through his teeth. 

Roman  _ wails _ , thighs shaking as he comes. His back is arched, spine like the limb of a bow. Finn pulls back just enough for Dean to record the little kitten licks he gives the head to clean Roman off. Roman’s  _ crying _ , tears dripping down his cheeks as Finn mouths at his dick just long enough for it to become uncomfortable.

Dean cuts the recording and shoves his phone in his pocket. Roman drags Finn up for a kiss, something quick and sloppy. Dean groans as he sees the cum glistening on Finn’s tongue, slick against his tongue as he pushes it into Roman’s mouth.

Roman swallows and collapses into his chair, skin flushed and chest heaving. He looks  _ wrecked, _ hair a little wild, eyes dark with arousal, his cock slowly softening against his thigh.

Dean can’t help but take a picture.

He’s distracted from his task when he feels Finn’s breath against his crotch. 

The Irishman isn’t moving his underwear out of the way. Instead, he rests his head against Dean’s inner thigh and mouths against Dean’s dick, lips red like sin and slick with saliva and come.

“That’s it, Diamond. Make your daddy feel good.” Dean groans as he pushes his hips up, the flat of Finn’s tongue pressed to his dick. “Roman, baby, can you do something for me?” Dean pants, a hand resting on Finn’s head.

Roman makes a noise of acknowledgment and rolls his head to look at Dean. Dean can tell he’s getting a little dumb, eyes wide and dark, mouth open a little. Dean knows that if he fucks Roman right now, Roman will be nothing but a drooling mess. 

“Can you eat Finn out for me? Get him nice and wet and open while he makes me feel good?” He asks, running a thumb along Roman’s cheekbone.

Roman nods and slips off the chair, slides his way over to Finn. Finn raises himself a little bit, pushes his hips up into the air, just enough for Roman to lay on his back and settle his face between Finn’s thighs. He doesn’t take Finn’s trunks off, just pulls them to the side.

Finn pants against Dean’s clothed cock, little breathy moans pulling from his throat. He yanks Dean’s underwear down, just enough to free his cock. Dean’s not as big as Roman, a little shorter and a bit thinner, so Finn’s mouth covers him much easier than it had Roman.

Finn’s mouth is  _ tighthotwet _ , is  _ toomuchnotenough, _ is silky and sweet and just what Dean needed. He groans, cards a hand through Finn’s hair, and thrusts his hips up.

Finn chokes a little as Dean’s cock is forced down his throat. He’s whining, sharp little noises forced out around Dean’s dick. His hands are scrabbling against Dean’s shins, fingers too clumsy to get a good grip.

Dean sets a rough pace. He grips Finn by the hair and drags him over his dick. He  _ uses _ Finn, almost like he’s a toy. Finn’s practically limp, gagging and drooling and moaning. 

Roman’s fingers are digging into Finn’s thighs as he digs into Finn, as he eats Finn out like he’s starving and this is his last meal. Finn’s rocking against his tongue and the finger that’s been shoved into him, rocking against Roman’s mouth and Dean’s cock.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Choke on Daddy’s cock like a good boy.” Dean growls. The noises of Finn’s throat, the ragged, uneven breaths he drags in when Dean pulls back, are going straight to Dean’s cock. He reaches a hand down and traces over Finn’s neck, over where his dick is stretching Finn’s throat. He feels Finn swallow from both sides.

Finn’s going a little red, so Dean pulls him off by his hair. Finn gasps like a drowned man, gulping down air as he leans shakily against Dean’s leg. He’s red down to his chest, and his eyes are blown so wide that Dean almost can’t see any blue. 

Finn tries to get his mouth back on Dean, tries to choke himself when he’s only gotten half a breath down. Dean catches him though, a hand gripping a fistful of hair, pulling hard enough to make Finn whine. 

“Did I do something wrong, Daddy?” Finn pants, eyes wide and wet as he tries to lean into Dean crotch. His voice is a little thick, is desperate.

“No, baby, you did wonderful. I just want to come on your pretty face.” Dean coos, sliding his hand down to caress Finn’s cheek. The Irishman moans, and Dean can’t tell if it’s because of the praise or the promise or the way Roman’s moaning against him. He knows the shiver comes from the praise though, knows that’s why Finn’s eyes go sweet and his mouth goes lax.

Dean grips his cock with one hand, a little tight. The rasp of his calluses is  _ delicious _ , the friction of his fist only slicked by Finn’s spit, the hint of Roman’s come left from Finn’s mouth, and the precome drooling from his tip. He twists his wrist on the upstroke, presses his thumb to the underside of his head, digs against his piss slit a little. His other hand comes to cradle his balls, rolls them against his palm, tightens his grip to just the right side of  _ painful _ .

It doesn’t take Dean long to get to the edge, to feel the pit of his stomach tighten and curl, hot and heavy. Finn’s panting against him with half-lidded eyes, small little noises falling from his slack mouth as he rides Roman’s face. Roman’s moaning too, has his tongue and at least two fingers in Finn, stretching him out because that’s what Dean asked of him. 

Finn looks gorgeous covered in come, looks gorgeous when he’s fucked out and used and still so hard it looks like his trunks are going to rip. Dean gives himself a few moments to come back down, watches as Finn licks his lips clean and sags against Roman’s mouth.

Once he’s back in his own body, once he can stand without his legs feeling like jelly, he staggers over to where Finn’s bag is, shoved in the corner with the rest of his stuff. He roots through it for a second and comes back with a small black pouch and an old, worn t-shirt.

“You can use this to clean off.” Dean says, handing Finn the t-shirt. He laughs as Finn just shoves his face against the cloth, too lost in the pleasure of Roman’s mouth to have the wherewithal to clean his face off effectively. Finn’s moans are muffled by the fabric, but they’re still loud enough for Dean to catch, “Daddy, can I come?”

“Look at me, Diamond.” Dean orders. It takes Finn a second, and when he does, his eyes are glassy and unfocused and almost crossed with pleasure. “You don’t get to come. Not till you win your match tonight.”

Finn’s face falls, and his eyes well up, but Dean shushes him with a soft kiss. “This isn’t a punishment. I’m just not done with you and your match is up next.” He guides Finn’s attention to the screen, where Seth’s match is winding to an end.

“I’m going to plug you, and you’re going to go out there and defend your title. I’m gonna keep the remote back here, and I’m going to mess with the settings as you wrestle.” Dean says, voice low and steady, slow enough for Finn’s lust-addled mind to comprehend.

Finn whimpers a little. His eyes are a little dark, and his brow is heavy. He looks away, staring at his hands. His hips have stilled from their movements against Roman’s tongue.

“Diamond, what’s your color? Do you need to safeword out?” Dean asks, catching Finn’s chin and making him maintain eye contact. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Finn bites his lip and thinks for a moment. “Green, Daddy. Do you want me to prep myself?” He asks politely. His voice is a little soft, but not in a bad way; it’s more like he’s simply fallen further into subspace.

“You can do it if you want, or I can. It’s up to you.” Dean offers the pouch, dangling from the drawstring from one finger between them.

Finn doesn’t move to take it, so Dean opens it and takes out the plug. It isn’t terribly big, especially compared to some of the toys they own, but it’s still large enough to be noticeable when Finn moves. He also grabs the bottle of lube and pats the chair next to him. “Hop up, Diamond. Put your legs in my lap.”

Finn listens, settling his elbows in the seat of the chair and draping his body across the arms. Dean takes a second to slap Finn’s ass, listening to the sharp moan that jolts out of Finn.

He makes quick work of the prep. Roman’s got him nice and loose, so it only takes a few moments of rough, dirty fingering to get Finn open enough to take the toy. Finn moans and whines throughout it, and Dean’s honestly surprised that there isn’t a wet spot on Finn’s trunks when he straightens himself.

Dean thumbs the control of the plug, turning it onto the second setting. Finn jolts like he’s been slapped, a low, ragged whimper building in his throat. His cock twitches in his trunks.

Dean grabs Finn’s title and wraps it around the Irishman’s waist. He snaps it tight and presses a soft, open mouth kiss to the bulge of Finn’s cock. His trunks look obscene most nights, showing the bottom of his asscheeks and the shape of his cock, but they’re downright pornographic around his erection. Finn himself doesn’t look much better, lips cherry red and swollen, slick with spit, hair messed up and eyes blown so wide the blue is almost invisible. His cheeks are a shade of red that rival the cloth of his trunks.

Finn shrugs on his leather jacket with shaky hands, knees a little weak as he readjusts his kick pads. There’s a slight shake to his thighs, almost imperceivable. 

McIntyre slaps Finn’s ass as he walks by, a sharp, swift slap that stains Finn’s skin pink. Finn  _ moans _ , lurid and filthy, as his knees almost give out. Normally, Dean would scold McIntyre for touching without asking, but Finn’s eyes go dark as his cock jolts in his trunks and he doesn’t seem to mind, so he lets it slide.

Dean turns the plug to its highest setting as Finn crouches during his entrance.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tonyknees on Tumblr! Come bug me!


End file.
